


Riddled With Fear (And A Little Love, Too)

by thebooklord15



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: But he's our asshole, Close to Canon, Edward's POV, M/M, a little Edward centric, and he is an asshole, bitter southern boy, not gonna continue it after all, not part of my other universe, poor ed doesn't realize he needs them until they're gone, pre/slash, query and echo done split, so is jon tbh, they retired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebooklord15/pseuds/thebooklord15
Summary: Edward Nygma had never considered himself the type to depend on human contact- most of the people he was surrounded by were close-minded morons who deserved not even a microsecond of his time. When his two trusted henchwomen, Query and Echo, leave his employ he comes to the realization that he is more prone to loneliness than he once thought.So, of course, he seeks company in none other than Scarecrow.
Relationships: Harley Quinn/ Joker (background), Harley Quinn/ Poison Ivy (background), Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Riddled With Fear (And A Little Love, Too)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is part of the first Scarecrow/Riddler fic I ever wrote. I ended up re-reading it and hating everything that I had, so I decided I'd go over it and edit it. Did that to the first chapter before I realized that I'd basically have to re-write the whole damn thing anyway (I was at 90+ pages on Google docs) so I deleted everything but the first chapter and a few other scenes that were salvageable. I honestly don't know if I'll finish this, but I'm really happy with how this chapter turned out, so I said "What the hell" and posted it.

It was not unusual for Edward Nygma to bombard people with questions. He grilled the cafeteria staff about the scraps they served the inmates. Questioned his therapists’ credibility each time they tried to diagnose him. Prodded his fellow inmates about their pasts and conditions, not out of any real sympathy but out of a need to know. He was the Riddler. It was simply a part of his nature. 

Which is exactly why Harley didn’t seem at all surprised by his sudden inquisitions about her friend, Jonathan Crane. Or Scarecrow as the rest of Gotham had come to know him as. 

“Say Harley, you’re friends with that Scarecrow fellow, aren’t you?” Edward had asked, taking his seat at the table across from her. He made sure to brush off the area around him before setting down his lunch tray. 

The woman he’d addressed turned away from Poison Ivy, with whom she had been, up to this point, engaged in conversation with. The latter seemed annoyed with this interruption, dark green lips pursing into a poisonous frown. Her blonde counterpart did not share this notion. Instead she smiled, all teeth, and answered her friend.

“Yup! Me an’ Johnny go way back.”

“ _Way_ back you say? Do tell!” Edward scrutinized the food on his tray. After a moment’s consideration he picked up the only decent thing, a bread roll, then pushed the rest towards Harley. She happily accepted it.

“First time we met was back in college. He was the TA in my psychology class. Always a little on the weird side, but not in, like, a bad way. Just sorta quiet. And intense.” She spoke around the mystery meat she’d shoveled into her mouth. Edward nodded along and tried not to grimace at her actions.

“Interesting. So you were around for the big event then?” He took a bite from his roll. Tasted like sawdust and woodshavings.

“Uh-uh.I dropped out after I went steady with Mistah Jay, so I’m not real sure how it happened _exactly_ , but accordion’ to the news he shot one of the students an’ got fired. He came to see me not long after, wanted to know if I could put in a good word to the henchmen an’ all, but he didn’t really wanna talk about it. Sometimes I’ll call ‘im up for a bank robbery or somethin’ but he mostly does his own thing with ‘is fear toxin. Like, this last time he got caught. He gassed out Gotham Uni’s campus. Sent a whole buncha people to ICU before Bats got to him.” Harley cut herself off to eat some more asylum food.

He continued to ignore her gluttony and filed away this information for later. As Harley had mentioned Crane’s termination had been quite the scandal with the media. Gotham University was one of the most prestigious colleges in the state and people had been drawn to the smudge on their reputation like sharks to blood infested water. Channels like _Gotham Central News_ and _Ryder’s Right_ tended to blow these sorts of things out of proportion, so he thought it better to check with a more personal source.

This information seemed to coordinate with what Jervis had had to say about Scarecrow. Quiet, intense, psychology teacher gone bad, etc. 

“Why do _you_ care in the first place? You’ve never even talked to Jon before.” Ivy rudely decided to interrupt.

He supposed that was a good enough question. If Harley had been the one asking it, or maybe if Ivy had decided to _wait her turn_ instead of butting in his conversation, he might have answered it.

Instead he did what he did best. Told a riddle.

“To gather the scattered and bring together the widespread. What is it?” 

Harley’s face scrunched into a look of concentration. Ivy merely frowned deeper, glaring at him. 

“Is it a puzzle?” Harley attempted. There was sauce all over her face. Edward had the grace to pretend not to see it.

“Good guess, but no. The answer I was looking for _Ivy_ ,” She took a pointed sip from her water bottle, still glaring, “was _‘collect’_. I’m the Riddler. Collecting information is something I’ve always done. I’m aware that unlike myself you’re no genius, but I’d expected you to be at least a little wiser than that! Has the chlorophyll in your blood turned your brain to mush Ms. Isley? Or did you simply not have one to begin with?” 

Edward was not usually one to invoke the wrath of Poison Ivy. The entirety of Gotham was well aware of her power over the flora that made up planet earth. He had no doubts that if they were in the yard or inside her greenhouse he would be fed to some sort of man-eating bush or choked to death by vines. But since they were in neither of those places (and since Arkham didn’t allow plants within 1,000 feet of Poison Ivy) he was decidedly safe. What a lot of people didn’t seem to realize was that if you took away her precious plants Ivy couldn’t do shit.

Ivy seemed to realize this as well, for her eyes narrowed to slits and her teeth set firmly against her jaw. Edward met her angered stare with the same smarmy look.

Harley’s gaze flitted nervously between the two.

“Oookaaay then..” She drawled, seeming to try and figure out how to diffuse this sudden tension.

Ivy provided her own solution. “You can do the rest of your collecting without me.” She spat at Edward, pushing herself up from the table. Turning her attention to Harley, who was regarding her wide-eyed, she said, “I’ll be sitting with Jervis if you need me. He is, unlike _some people_ , wonderful company.” Then she snatched up her water bottle (plastic much to her dismay, and Edward’s amusement) and stalked off, presumably to find Jervis’s table.

“Do tell him I said hello!” Edward cheerfully called after her. She gave no indication that she heard.

“And me too! I said ‘hi’ too!” Harley added.

Once the red-head was out of sight Harley returned her attention back to Edward. Good. He deserved her full focus.

“What was ‘sat all about? Red was just askin’ ya a question.”

“And I _would_ have answered it had she not been so rude about it, but since she was I did not.” He tilted his head back slightly, so his nose was pointed upward in a haughty fashion.

“Well, can I ask the same thing? I don’ really mind talkin’ about Jonny with ya, but he’s been in game for like two years now, and ya haven’t really bothered ta ask about ‘im til now. What’s different?” She cocked her head to the side, pigtails swishing with the motion.

“Since you asked so politely,” he dropped his admittedly snooty pose, “I was hoping to acquire a sort of partnership with him.”

As expected Harley’s blue eyes widened dramatically. “Oh?” Her head tilted even further. She resembled a golden retriever, not that Edward would ever tell her that.

He did suppose it was rather surprising that he, of all people, would even consider working with someone in this sort of manner. Sure, he had teamed up with some of the other rogues in the past, and he was always dealing with his henchmen, but those did not count in this regard. With those situations he was always the greater and they the lesser. Riddler was the one in charge so _Riddler_ made all the big decisions and planning and _Riddler_ was the one who kept most of the money and, more often than not, the one to betray the other for more money. To say that one was a partner of the Riddler is to imply that they were an equal to him. And, as he often found himself reminding his would be peers, nobody was his equal.

There were, however, some who had come close. Specifically Query and Echo. His most trusted henchwomen. They’d been there for him since nearly the beginning, and he’d presumed they would be until the end. 

And then they’d ditched him to get married. 

Not exactly _ditched_ , more as they’d decided to go back to Query’s old biker gang (ironically named _Dyke’s on Bike’s_ ) to travel the country side. And he was, in theory, completely fine with that. 

He’d even managed to do some heists on his own. It wasn’t like he _needed_ them to be his getaway car or their help in beating up Batman, but…well.

He kinda missed it.

And so, after a long bout of contemplation (he’d just finished a stint in solitaire, so he had plenty of time to do so) he’d had the brilliant idea to do some settling down of his own. What better way to do that then with a partner?

Finding someone that met his particular set of standards hadn’t been easy. They had to be extremely intelligent, at the very least, have decent fighting skills, and some experience with Batman. Jonathan Crane, as he was finding out, fit all of these standards.

Instead of explaining all this to Harley, as it was more time then they had left for lunch, he asked a final question.

“You wouldn’t happen to know who he’s rooming with currently?”

“I heard he’s goin’ into solitaire- somethin’ about all the students still in the hospital? But I doubt they’ll actually do it. The guards are usually too scared to piss ‘im off.” 

  
  


\---

The next day Jonathan Crane proved Harley right. Edward awoke to the sound of jingling keys and shuffled feet. When he opened his eyes he witnessed his lanky new cellmate being dragged in by two burly guards. If the other man wasn’t sedated he would have greeted him. For now he could be satisfied with things being made easier for him. Repeated contact was also key in establishing relationships and having his (soon-to-be) partner as a cellmate significantly increased the amount of opportunities to bond. 

Jonathan was ungraciously dropped on the bed next to his. The jolt knocked his glasses askew. He made a sound half-way between a grunt and a moan at the impact. 

Edward frowned lightly at this treatment. Did they forget what patient they were mistreating?

“Where are you boy's manners? What happened to ‘treat others the way you want to be treated’?” 

The guards had been on their way out, but stopped at Edward’s comment. The bigger of the two sneered and said:

“Manners don’t count for shit with killers and cons. Now fuck off before I knock your ass out too.” 

Edward felt his eyebrows shoot up. How dare this _moron_ , this utter buffoon talk to him in such a manner? There was a moment where he wished desperately for his cane, if only to bash this idiot’s head in with it. After it passed he managed to morph his features into a more smug, ‘smarter than you and is proud of it’ sort of look: half-smirk, eyes narrowed, chest puffed up.

“What has no hands but grips you tight and squeezes your grit, whispers warnings in your ear and makes you lose all wit? It has no fangs, yet bites down hard, have too much and it might stop your _heart_.” He added an unnecessary edge to heart, to make it seem more threatening. It would likely go unappreciated by his audience. They were stupid enough to work for Arkham, after all, it’d be a miracle if they could read above the third grade level.

Per the norm, the addressed guard’s face took on an expression of first confusion, then anger at his inability to provide an answer.

When he was met with silence, Edward filled it. 

“I’d give you a hint but that would undoubtedly confuse you more. You seem like the sort that can barely spell your own name without some assistance.”

He watched calmly as the angered guard snarled, cracking the knuckles on his meaty hands. He supposed it was to intimidate him. Cute.

“You wanna go back to fuckin’ solitaire Nygma? If you come in with a few more bruises than last time, ain’t no one gonna say _shit_ -”

The other guard, who was lingering at the door, sighed. “Let it _go_ , Charlie. We’ve got five more rounds to make-”

The first guard- Charlie, apparently, snapped back. “Then make ‘em by yourself, I’ve got a fuckin lesson to teach! You might be fine with letin’ these loonies push you around, but I sure ain’t!”

The second guard took a long look at his outraged partner. Then, a longer look at Edward. Then, he sighed again, seeming to make a decision. 

“Alright _fine_. But I’m not gonna cover for you this time, man. If anyone asks, this is your lunch break.” He took the keys from his belt, unlocked the door, then handed them to Charlie. 

And then there were three. Wonderful.

Charlie cracked his neck, sauntering towards Edward. A cruel grin revealed gold and silver capped teeth. They would disappear soon enough, Edward knew.

“The answer I was looking for, Charlie, was fear.”

“And I bet you’ve got plenty of that right now, huh riddle man?”

Charlie loomed over Edward’s bed. Unbothered by this display Edward held his gaze.

“Not particularly, no. I don’t care for you enough to be concerned with your safety.”

As predicted Charlie’s grin sloped downwards, covering his dental catastrophe. “Huh?” 

He chuckled, a humorless and cruel sound. “Have you truly no idea who you’re speaking to, Charlie? I’m the _Riddler_. My reach extends far beyond any and all barriers, including the walls of this asylum. It might not be immediately, no. Perhaps a week from now, maybe a month. Maybe your breaks will suddenly fail on the way home from work. Maybe your social security number will suddenly belong to me. Maybe one day, you’ll come home to find your wife and children have disappeared under mysterious circumstances.” 

Charlie was devoid of any and all color. No longer looming over the bed, he had shuffled his hulking mass backwards, inching close to the door. Edward remained cross-legged on the bed, yet he towered over the other.

“There are a number of ways to hurt someone without physically touching them, like _you_ are forced to resort to, but trust me when I say this: one day, somewhere in the near future, something will happen to you and or the people you care for, and you will know it was your fault. You will know that this all could have been avoided if you had simply turned around and walked out of the door. Do you understand _Charlie_?”

Charlie nodded frantically, large hands fumbling for the keys. They were shaking so bad he almost dropped them. After a few more tries, Charlie constantly glancing over his shoulder at Edward, as if he might attack him if he looked away for too long, he managed to free himself. The door was promptly slammed behind him.

Edward smiled to himself. How he loved abusing his status.

“Has my presence rubbed off on you already?” Jonathan remarked wryly. He had opened his cerulean eyes, which were twinkling with mischief. 

Not that Edward would ever admit this, but he jumped a little bit. It wasn’t really out of fear for the other man but more surprise. Who expects to hold a conversation with a sedated man? He _wasn’t_ frightened. Just surprised.

At least that’s what he told himself, as he straightened his spine and feigned nonchalance.

“Playing possum, eh? What’d you do, switch out the syringes last minute? Hide the sedative pill? Or did you just now wake up and I’m giving you more credit than you deserve?” He tried to force some confidence into his voice but it sounded wrong. Pitch to high, slight strain on the vowels. It was a subtle but noticeable difference. 

“None actually.” Jonathan sat up and stretched his thin body, knobby joints cracking. His orange asylum uniform lifted but revealed no skin. The outfit was appropriate for his height but due to his being underweight it hung off him in an unflattering way. _Much_ too baggy. 

Not that Edward was paying any notice. Really, these details didn’t matter.

“When one is exposed to as many chemicals as I am, a high tolerance is to be expected.” His voice, Edward totally didn’t note, had a slight southern accent. It was only noticeable when you were really looking for it. Likely due to practiced suppression. Edward hardly blamed him. The southern states weren’t exactly known for their intelligence.

“Tasting your own medicine doctor? I thought experimenting on your idiot students was more of your thing. Or perhaps you’re referring to you being your own patient zero.” 

Jonathan gave him a look that wasn’t far off from a glare. 

“Done some spying, have we Mr. Nygma?” The air of politeness had dissipated. Odd. That should have flattered him. No matter, Edward was sure he could make a swift recovery.

“Well, it is best to know a little about your partners in crime. We’re all fighting the war against the Bat aren’t we? We’re a team, us fellow Rogues.” When he was met with no response he continued.

“I don’t mean to seem invasive really. It’s a little hard not to know about that incident at Gotham University though. It was a rather big scandal.” 

“So, we’re a team now?” Jonathan didn’t seem to hear his last statement.

“I’d like to think we could be, yes.” 

The other man was looking at him in a cold and clinical matter. That mischievous twinkle from earlier was no longer there. 

“What are you playing at Nygma? If you think me stupid enough to fall for one of your riddling schemes you’ll soon prove yourself wrong. Why this sudden interest in me? Is it to feed your insatiable desire to know everything about everyone that drives you, or something more? We’ve known of each other’s presence for nearly two years, and you’ve made no effort to acquaint yourself until now. Something’s changed-but what? I’ll ask you one more time. _What are you playing at_?”

Jonathan’s eyes were little more than slits by this point. He had not moved an inch from his position on the bed, yet it seemed as if he’d pinned Edward to the wall. 

Edward’s heart rate had more than doubled at this notion. Out of fear or some perverse thrill, he couldn’t tell. Maybe it was a little bit of both. Whatever it was had made his mouth feel dryer than the Sahara. He nervously swished his tongue over his lips. 

“I see you’re the type that cuts straight to the chase then? Alright, I’ll stop dancing around it. I’ve been looking for a partner as of late, someone with enough intelligence to be on par with me. Someone who I could count on in a fight. A person with as much experience with the Bat as I have. That person, Jonathan Crane, is you.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, “You’re joking.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Joker? Of course I’m not joking!” He snapped back. Not even two minutes into this discussion and they were already arguing. Edward internally cursed Charlie, the person he was deciding to blame for this problem. He’d gotten him riled up with those snide little remarks and petty attempts to threaten him. He made a mental note to find out his last name and send some of his henchman after him later.

“You’ve been perfectly content to work alone in the past.”

“And I’m perfectly capable of doing so. But I feel that we can benefit each other, you and I. Harley mentioned you had henchmen problems, yes? Ally yourself with me and you’ll never have to worry about such a thing as that.”

It was true, and Edward knew that Jonathan knew this. 

“There is another factor that you have failed to mention, Edward. Relationships such as these require a great deal of trust. This isn’t going to work if we’re keeping secrets from one another.”

“So what I’m hearing is, you aren’t against the idea of working alongside me?”

“Tell me your true intent and I’ll _consider_ it.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly a ‘yes’ but it wasn't quite a ‘no’ either. Edward figured that was a good enough step in the right direction.

“You probably haven’t heard of them, but I used to employ two women, Query and Echo. They were my..” Edward paused, searching for the correct term. Employees? Associates? Friends? “..first and most trusted henchwomen.” Not a lie but certainly not the full truth either. 

“They retired recently.” Eloped was more like it. “And I realized that, although I never considered them as partners, I enjoyed having some assistance with my work. Having someone that would always be in my corner, if you will.”

Jonathan raised one eyebrow. “And you’ve decided that you’d like that person to be me?”

Edward swallowed. “Yes.” 

There was a horribly long pause. Then:

“Just to be clear, this is an equal partnership. I am not your henchmen nor you mine.”

Edward suppressed an excited squeal. “Deal!”, he exclaimed, offering his hand. After looking at it for a moment, Jonathan hesitantly accepted it.

And so, their partnership began.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: Okay, I tried to finish this. Really, I did. But I have no motivation to do so, nor any good ideas on how to continue this work. I toyed with the idea of forcing myself to write anyway, but that would only lead to me resenting this piece and doing a half-assed job at it. So, I'm leaving this as a one-shot. Sorry if that disappoints, but I prefer not to publish things unless I know them to be good quality, and I figure an open-ended one-shot to be much better than a story with one good chapter and nothing but shit until the end.


End file.
